This is a vacation recap. Vacation recaps are, by law, 49 percent less funny than usual recaps. Well, not really, but this episode was mostly a drag and I used up all my funny on "Selfless," so I apologize in advance if you don't laugh your ass off reading this.
Previously on Buffy, there was a character called Giles who had a very sexy voice. Come back, Giles! Spike was stuck in the basement and had nowhere else to go. Presumably because there was some sort of LoJack system preventing him from up and walking out. Vampirism isn't really well known for being a welfare state, y'know? Anya got kicked out of the vengeance demon club and decided to finally make her own way in life.
Xander strides through the door of his apartment and tersely points to the left, saying, "You're going to live in the small room over there. I know it looks like a closet but it's a room now." He turns to face Buffy and Dawn, who are entering stony-faced behind him to increase the suspense before the audience finds out that his comments are directed at Spike. Xander continues laying down the law vis-à-vis hot water right-of-way. He stabs his finger in Buffy's direction and reminds her that he "hate[s] this plan." Spike stands at the doorway silently until Buffy gently prods Xander for an invitation, which Xander grudgingly provides before going another round with Buffy. Xander isn't quite clear on exactly how and when Spike's problems became his to deal with too. I hear ya on that count, brother. Buffy emphatically says that the basement is driving Spike bonkers, and that they "can't just leave him there." Why not? No, really. They could. They'd probably also have to never have contact with him again, but that's a risk I'm willing to take. Dawn worries that Buffy's sudden show of something closely resembling compassion means that she's playing hide the stake with Spikey again, proving once again that she hasn't seen any of last season if she thinks that Buffy + Compassion = Shagging Spike. Buffy emphatically denies the charge, but does say that things are "different" now that Spike has a soul. Xander takes the words out of my mouth as he dryly observes, "I'm sure that'll be a real comfort when he soulfully attacks you again." Dawn wants to know what "exactly" Spike's soul-having status means, but Buffy doesn't have a concrete answer for her. I suspect because the writers themselves have no idea. She tries to reassure Dawn that nobody is going to attack her, but just as the words leave her mouth, Spike strides up to get her attention by reaching for her upper arm. At this contact, she spins around with a gasp and a cringe, her actions proving false her supposed comfort in Spike's presence. As Spike quickly says sorry, his accent slips. ["And not just loses-its-balance slips but stumbles down an embankment and breaks its leg. It's that ever-devious constricted American R. Damn you, constricted American R!" -- Sep] Spike is convinced that living with Xander isn't going to work out (and he should know, since it's not the first time they've been bunk buddies), so he offers to leave because he's not interested in Buffy's pity. "It's not coddling," she says, and then, at a loss for words, stammers, "Now go to your closet," and strides out uncomfortably. My God, that was the longest minute in the history of television, and I know it's only going to get much, much worse before it gets any better. Oh well. As my mother would say, at least I'm not working on a Jack Daniel's factory line and forced to pee into my adult diapers.
Sunnydale High. Buffy and Dawn sit on the bleachers during lunch and have a sisterly interlude. Dawn wants to know why Buffy is helping Spike if it's not out of pity. Buffy sucks some soda through her straw and doesn't answer. She fiddles with her sunglasses and finally says, "I don't know what I'm feeling. I think I can't stand him but sometimes..." Dawn wants to know if Buffy loves Spike. Buffy denies love, but admits that she does "feel" for him. Dawn is confused by the whole "Buffy loathes Spike, yet spent the better part of last season loathing him between the sheets, while Spike says that he would sacrifice himself for her, but then sacrifices whatever small changes he had made by trying to rape her" thing. Aren't we all, Dawn? Buffy replies, "Spike knew how wrong he was. That's why he went away." Well, problem solved, then. Oh. No, wait. Problem not solved. He came back. Dawn is still skeptical, pointing out that "Xander had a soul when he stood Anya up at the altar." And I see the point they're trying to make here -- that having a soul doesn't automatically make you immune from hurting other people -- but the comparison they just used was so, so inappropriate that it isn't even in the same galaxy. Dumping someone in a public and humiliating fashion isn't a good deed by any stretch of the imagination, but trying to force bits of you inside someone else's body against her will is so much more reprehensible. Plus, Xander has done way worse things than leaving Anya at the altar. Things I'm sure I'd be able to think of if I could just muster enough energy to stay awake. Fortunately, this conversation draws to a close as Buffy decides that her break is over. Buffy gathers up her stuff and leaves as Dawn continues with her rant about how she doesn't understand why people put so much energy into relationships. Her gaze wanders down to the football field as she sees some blond, bland American teenager putting on his letter jacket after practice. The theme music from A Summer Place starts up, and Dawn gazes rapturously at the sight of her teenaged Adonis being unable to reliably aim a stream of water into his mouth. She leans forward as her eyes follow him off the field, then falls off the bleachers with a shriek. Someone mentioned on the boards they felt the show could do this every episode and it wouldn't get old. I'd like to point out that they practically do do this every episode, and I'm sure that someone who cares more than I do could come up with an exhaustive episode list.
Commercials. Where have all the good ones gone?
We're jarringly dropped into the middle of a fight. Buffy grapples with a demon in Anya's apartment as Anya crawls through the debris on the floor and yells, "Maybe I'm not even the right Anyanka," and something else about D'Hoffryn that I didn't catch. Buffy takes the demon down with a well-placed throw of the axe and helps Anya up. She expositions that it's good that she stopped by and heard the screaming. I'll bet that promising to check up on Anya is how Buffy talked Xander into letting Spike stay with him. Anya goes to fetch some ice and thanks Buffy for saving her from one of D'Hoffryn's minions, but then asks her to leave. She insists that she doesn't "want to need anyone's help." Buffy "gets it," but doesn't leave. She explains that there's a dark moon on the rise and she doesn't want "her friends" to be alone. Mollified, Anya allows herself to save some face, saying, "I guess you guys could use my help," considering that Dawn is "not really good for anything" and Willow is a bit weak on the tactical planning when she's not a stupid plot device -- er, I mean, "evil."
SHS. Dawn nervously paces and wrings her hands at the bottom of the stairs as she practices her rico y suave pick-up lines. I hate people who stand right at the bottom of stairs all involved in their own personal dramas and not noticing that they're blocking the way of people trying to descend and get around them. She turns the corner and approaches the bland and completely unjustifiable object of her affections, who is deep into a conversation with two cheerleaders and a teammate. She breaks into their conversation with "Hey RJ!" startling the popular crowd and causing them to exchange "Why does this girl think she can talk to us?" looks. I have to admit that I'm simply unable to watch this scene a second time. I cringed through it the first time, but now I have a fast-forward button and there's nothing in my contract that requires me to relive adolescent trauma, so I'm just going quickly sum things up: Dawn makes a total and complete fool of herself, until the jocks and cheerleaders just walk off and leave her standing there. Burn.
Back at Casa Summers, Dawn roots through some cardboard boxes in the basement until she find what she's looking for.
Cut to the gym, where cheerleader tryouts are in progress. Pan across a line of prospective bitches, er, "cheerleaders" and, in a turn of events everyone saw coming, over to Dawn in the too-tight cheerleader outfit she scavenged from the basement. Dawn clomps to the middle of the gym floor, where she proceeds to humiliate herself some more with wobbly spaghetti legs and an RJ-inspired cheer. Dawn galumphs her way through the rest of her "routine" and then falls on a simple cartwheel. I guess that Boneless Dawn must some side effect of Poseable Dawn that only kicks in weeks later. Especially as we've seen numerous times that Dawn is not this spectacularly lacking in physical agility. I mean, this is baaaaaad. Even the fat kid in the audience looks mortified.
Cut to Casa Summers later that evening. Buffy ineptly tries to reassure a sobbing Dawn through the closed bathroom door. God! This is so boring. Nothing about this episode is new or insightful or meaningful in any way, and I have no sympathy or compassion for the character of Dawn in this setting. I imagine that most of the viewers watching have already lived through adolescence at least once, if only on this very show, and I just don't have the time or energy for a painfully inept retread. I might have forgiven the people in charge of Buffy for turning it into a crap show, but I'll never forgive them for turning into a boring one. Dawn yells at Buffy to go away as Xander ambles around the corner. Buffy tries to cancel on video night with Xander, but he thinks that despite the histrionics, it's still better than the undead houseguest he's got waiting for him at home. Speaking of compassion and sympathy, I have it for Xander in droves. I can't describe how uncomfortable it's made me on those few occasions when I've been forced to live with someone I loathe. Xander deserves kudos for taking Spike in at all. Can you imagine dealing with the dried blood residue in your coffee mugs, the Weetabix shreds ground into your carpet, and the way he would always be taping his "stories" over your archived Generation tapes? As further enticement for being allowed to stay, Xander states that "teens in a snit" like pizza, and offers to order some. Dawn throws open the bathroom door and grits out, "It. Is. Not. A. Snit." She tearfully wails some more about how she "blew it" with the guy of her dreams, but Buffy's attention is caught by a flash of yellow and maroon on the bathroom floor. Dawn stalks off to her room and Buffy bends over for a close look at her old cheerleader uniform, which is all slashed to pieces. Oh, the drama!
Dawn is supine on her bed when Buffy comes to confront her about the outfit. Buffy goes to sit by Dawn on the bed, and reassures her that things will be brighter in the morning, especially as she doesn't really even know this guy. "I do know him," protests Dawn, sitting up. "I know his soul." I check the remote to make sure that I haven't accidentally changed the channel to the WB and gone forward in time to Wednesday at 8:00 PM. Nope -- I'm still watching Buffy, not Dawson's Creek. Which, by the way, is how I'd like to keep it, so maybe the writers could just LAY OFF THE CRACK. I mean, I know that they're trying to lampoon shows like DC here. And, to borrow possibly the most overused phrase this season, I get that. I really do. But maybe what the staff of ME needs to realize is that, after turning what was once an irreverent and creatively fresh teen drama into the steaming pile of excrement that was last season, after "Wrecked" and "Two To Go" and "Grave," after transforming brilliantly clever metaphors into "Gay now!" and taking every opportunity for a cheap breast joke, they lost the right to lampoon anything. And frankly, they have a lot more work to do before they're going to be able to earn that right back. So. Back to the lack of action. "It's love," insists Dawn, before turning on Buffy and telling her that she's too dysfunctional to understand what real love is. "Just go. Leave me alone." I was waiting for a classic, "Get out. Get out. GET OUT!" but it was not to be.
The day at school, Dawn walks down the stairs just in time to hear RJ's teammate tell RJ that he's going to replace him as the...starting thingy in the game this weekend. RJ looks upset. Dawn determinedly stalks after RJ's friend. As she catches up to him, she barks, "You can't do this to RJ!" and then pushes him violently up the stairs. Oh! In my perfect fantasy world, Dawn is going to juvie!
Principal Wood's office. Dawn is explaining to Principal Wood that the kid "stumbled and fell" while a concerned Buffy looks on. Dawn neatly talks her way out of trouble, and all my fantasies of Dawn locked in a small room far, far away from me die. The Principal asides that he's going to have to call the coach and "tell him the bad news." "At least he's still got RJ," moons Dawn. At the mention of RJ, Buffy's face clouds over.
Dawn walks down the hall; RJ bounds up behind her, calling her by her last name. Oh, that's not good. Guys who are interested in you? Either tease you mercilessly or are rendered practically mute by your presence. Guys who call you by your last name think of you as "a friend" or "one of the guys," and will remain oblivious to your very existence as a member of the opposite sex and girlfriend potential, even though you help them type up their English essays and give them the Ding-Dongs out of your lunch bag. And then they'll just give you blank looks and make guppy faces while they RIP YOUR HEART IN TWO when you finally screw up your courage to tell them that you really like them, when it should have been so obvious to any half-sentient being because you spent the last eighty-seven weekends watching NASCAR with them. Because who likes watching NASCAR anyway? All of these stupid little super-fast cars that don't even ever GO ANYWHERE. Um. Sorry to wrap you up in my issues there. Anyway. RJ thinks that it's cool that Dawn braved Wood for him, and then asks Dawn if she'd like to go out that night.
Bronze. The Breeders play as kids in the audience flail around. The Breeders? Weren't they washed up, like, ten years ago? The last time they had a hit, these kids were in, like, kindergarten. Pan across to a table where Buffy, Xander, and Willow all sit. Xander is filling everyone in on the Spike situation, wondering if Spike's soul means he should be picking up his wet towels. Willow interjects that maybe the change in Spike means that he feels "really bad about leaving them there." Heh. Buffy glances into the crowd and spies RJ, which causes her to quickly bring Willow up to speed on the whole situation. "Check out the fan club," is Willow's dry response. Cut to a bouncy (in all senses of the word) and curly-haired Miss Thang shaking it. I'm deeply disturbed that MT knows how to move her hips like that. "Daddy like," growls Xander. Ew. "What is that shirt made of?" wonders Buffy. "Paint?" Buffy mentions that she's grateful that Dawn isn't around to see her "her precious boyfriend getting all thrusty with some slut-bag hussy..." She trails off when the dancer turns towards the crowd and reveals herself as none other than Dawn.
Xander immediately starts freaking about his ill-timed "Daddy" comment of a moment ago, and Will considerately leans over and says, "Right there with ya." Heh. See? Now this is the type of "Gay now!" sentiment that won't set my teeth on edge. Buffy and the gang watch in horror some more as Dawn writhes on the dance floor. The song ends, and an unsuspecting Dawn strides right by her sister's table. Buffy pulls Dawn aside to deliver a lecture on the evils of premature teen hip-waggling. Furthermore, she is just shocked and appalled at the way Dawn is dressing. And she should know, considering that she used to consider approximately a bandanna-sized amount of cloth appropriate school attire. At least Dawn is wearing pants, y'know? Predictably, Dawn throws a teenage snit and attempts to brush past Buffy to rejoin RJ. Buffy vetoes that plan, so Dawn grabs her coat and flounces right on out of there. But it's more of a bitchy flounce than a whiny flounce, so at least she's moving up the evolutionary flouncing ladder.
Outside, Dawn stalks down the street until one of the cheerleaders steps into her path, saying, "I know what you're doing, Slut. I saw you with RJ," all Children of the Corn delivery. What follows is the lamest catfight in the history of catfights. I mean, there isn't even any hair-pulling! What's a catfight without a handful of yanked-out hair extensions? The weird thing is, this lame little flail-fest is shot just the same as a normal fight. Buffy pulls the two hormonal teens apart. Cheerleader kicks Buffy in the shin and prances off, calling out one last threat over her shoulder.
SHS. Principal Wood escorts RJ out of his office, expositioning that RJ is getting detention for farming out his homework to all the little hormone bombs that are so eager to get a piece. Buffy stands off to one side. As RJ prepares to leave, she sits him down for a little talk. She begins to lecture him. He stands up to leave and puts on his jacket, but she shoves him back into the chair. She tries to tell him that, as a leader, he's responsible for setting a good example for others, but the jacket soon starts to work its magic, and Buffy's tone and demeanor quickly change as she begins to wax lustfully about how he "runs a lot" when he's practicing. Aaaand this is yet another scene that is just too squicky to give a blow-by-blow. Suffice it to say that Buffy ooks me out by completely coming on to RJ until she's interrupted by another teacher entering the office.
Dawn enters the front door and encounters Buffy waiting in the living room for a talk. They sit on the sofa, and Buffy informs Dawn that she spoke with RJ, and he's "okay." Dawn begs to hear what RJ said about her, and Buffy explains, "He thinks you're funny and pretty and interesting." What a liar! She continues that RJ didn't have a thing to say against Dawn, but there's something strange about her delivery, which causes Dawn distress. Buffy claims that RJ thinks Dawn "came on too strong." Is there really such a thing as coming on too strong for an egocentric, popular teenaged boy? Still maintaining a façade of usefulness, Buffy suggests that Dawn step back from her pursuit of RJ, and they share a tender moment of bonding during which Dawn doesn't spot Buffy's self-satisfied smirk. Dawn and Buffy have reacted quite differently to this spell. Are we supposed to take a lesson away from the fact that the spell simply turned Dawn into an exaggerated teenage mope, whereas it turned Buffy into a lying, conniving, blithely cold-hearted bitch?
The day at school, a math teacher is lecturing when Buffy comes hurrying into the classroom and claims, "We need to see RJ in the guidance office." RJ gets up without a word, and Buffy follows him out of the classroom, swishing her plaid-skirt-clad ass. She leads him into an empty classroom and engages into some incredibly painful seduction dialog based on a 1+1 = Dirty Teacher Porn equation. We cut to Dawn, who's walking down a hallway to spy on RJ in his math class. She sees his empty desk. Buffy asks RJ about football, just like a porn movie actress asking about the exciting in and outs (ahem) of the pizza delivery business before leading up to the improbable disrobing scene. I notice that there's an Amnesty International poster on the wall in this classroom. Don't they lobby to protect citizens of the world from torture and other cruel and unusual punishment? Well, where's Amnesty International now, I ask you? Watching Buffy prepare to get groiny with Bland Boy here is all the torture I can take! RJ responds to Buffy's questions with something too boring to comprehend and then adds that Principal Wood expects too much of him. "I wish somebody would just get him off my back," he bitches. Buffy makes wide-eyed, ever-so-interested kewpie doll eyes and grabs RJ. They start to make out. RJ breaks off to engage in some icky Hot For Teacher dialogue. Dawn wanders the halls, peeping into classrooms in hopes of spotting RJ. She walks up to the room containing the icky and gets an eyeful.
Dawn races out the front doors of the school, all sad and shit. As she collapses onto a bench, crying, Xander wanders up to her. He inquires, "Is this…did that guy in the jacket…?" "Dawn protests that she doesn't want to hear RJ's name, and Xander's all confused because he only referred to RJ as "that guy in the jacket." "That's what I used to call him in my head before I knew his real name!" melodramas Dawn. I'm so beyond caring about Dawn's pathetic little problems. This episode feels like it's lasted for a year and a day already. Xander suggests that he fetch Buffy to help, and Dawn gets all snarly, saying that her crying is about both Buffy and that guy in the jacket.
Moany sounds. Blech. Xander bursts into the classroom and finds RJ and Buffy swapping spit. RJ's sprawled across a desk and Buffy is perched on top of him (on his stomach, not his groin, or at least that's what I'm telling myself). Her shirt is unbuttoned and hanging partway off. I'm really just kinda sad to see Buffy, after all she's been through the past year or so, being treated by the writers in such a cavalier fashion. Fine -- make boring fun of Dawn and put her in humiliating, typical teenage situations. I don't care. But having poor Buffy, in her sad little capacity as entirely inappropriate school counselor, sexually molest a student at the school where she's employed is just not funny and seems to be an indignity the character doesn't deserve. The fact that she's under a spell can't wipe away the bad taste this disrespect leaves in my mouth. Xander stops short in horror at the sight of Buffy's pony ride. Buffy takes the opportunity to introduce RJ, and RJ chides Xander for not knocking. Xander snaps back, "It's a classroom, you chowderhead." Turning to leave, he adds, "Now get off the boy, Buffy. We're going home." A line made funny by good delivery on Nick's part.
Summers living room. Dawn sobs on the sofa while Buffy ever-so-concernedly tries to reassure her by saying, "Crying isn't going to make his love for me go away, you know." Uh, okay. Xander, Anya, and Willow stand nearby, and Xander suggests that a love spell is at work here. Buffy says he's right, but then indicates that she thinks only Dawn is under the spell. Obviously, Buffy's love is real. Willow says they're working on breaking the spell, and Anya refers to RJ as a boy, incurring Buffy and Dawn's ire. Anya, Willow, and Xander head across the room to do research. Dawn nasals that the love comes from her heart, not magic, and then snaps at Buffy for betraying her. In this half of the episode, SMG has chosen to play Buffy just like the Buffybot, but without the amusing, spirited bits. She morons back to Dawn, "I betrayed you? You're the one who constructed this elaborate fantasy about you and my lover." Again, what I said about the show not having earned this sort of broad satire when it's sucked so very much for so very long. Dawn leaps up, screaming, "Your lover?" contemptuously, which was very much like my reaction the first time I saw this episode. Blah blah blah, Dawn's all emotional and frustrated and heartbroken, and Buffy just continues to respond all not-getting-it and roboty. Dawn says Buffy wasn't "supposed to do this" to her because she trusted her, and then stomps off. Buffy runs after her.
Over at the research station, Xander, Willow, and Anya roll their eyes. Willow mentions that people "forget how dangerous" love spells can be, which causes Xander to flash back to "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered." We see the female residents of Sunnydale (including Joyce) trapping Xander and Cordy in a basement. Arms flail and girls scream and then we're back to the present day, where Xander looks dreamy and muses, "Good times." Anya gives Xander a look that would probably kill if she were still in the vengeance business. Willow comes up with some info on the laptop, and Buffy prances back in, complaining that Dawn locked herself in her room. Xander checks out the web page and says that RJ's brother attended Sunnydale High a few years ahead of the gang. He was also an athlete and used to torture Xander by sticking gum in his hair. Xander volunteers to talk to RJ's brother.
Xander and Spike approach a house, and Xander lectures Spike about not letting RJ's brother work his charming mojo on him. Spike doesn't say much, and then they ring the bell. Xander and Spike make surprised faces, and we see that RJ's brother is now a slovenly, scruffy guy in a pizza delivery jacket. Spike cocks a quizzical eyebrow. I like quiet Spike. He's no bother at all.
Sep: Silent, helpful, non scene-hogging Spike -- I like it!
Ace: Yeah, me too. But I bet some of the fans who only watch for him are gonna be pissed. Proves you shouldn't put all your fan eggs in one character basket or somethin'.
Sep: I know! I mean, you're watching a show called Buffy the Vampire Slayer -- the focus is going to be on Buffy.
Ace: Heh. And anyone actually sleeping with her, historically.
Sep: Damn. In that case, I sure hope Buffy stops sleeping with Dawn.
A little later, Xander and RJ's brother sit chatting about construction. There's a few brewskis on the coffee table between them. Damn, I wish they'd give this RJ's brother guy a name. RJ's brother asks about RJ, and if he's doing well at Sunnydale High. Xander allows that he is, then gently brings up the fact that RJ might be dating a female friend of his. Spike drifts silently around the room. RJ's brother says that RJ is a great guy, although he used to worry about him when he was younger because he was such a big nerd. Behind RJ's brother's head, Spike checks out some knick-knacks. He peers at a bunch of angel figurines and then turns one around so that it's no longer looking at him. RJ's brother continues that he even found (gasp) poetry in RJ's room once, but then RJ "blossomed." Just as Xander is asking what caused RJ to blossom, Spike breaks in, "You're wearing your brother's jacket." He indicates some pictures on the mantel of both brothers in the same letterman's jacket. RJ's brother explains, "Oh, no, dude. He's wearing mine. That jacket was with me all the way through high school." He gave the jacket to RJ after he graduated, but before he started working at the Pizza Barn. Spike shoots Xander a significant look. "I'm in the management program," RJ's brother concludes rather sweetly. Oh, RJ's brother's name is Lance, so let's use that from now on. Xander inquires where Lance got the jacket, and Lance explains that it was passed on from his father, who always made a big deal about it. Apparently he met RJ and Lance's (hot when young) mom while wearing it. Xander leaps up and, nodding to Spike, says it's getting late. Lance seems happy for the company, though, and tells the guys they don't have to leave. In fact, they could hang out in his "rumpus room" in the basement and partake of the mini-fridge and air hockey. Just then, a woman shouts down from upstairs that if Lance has guests, he could serve them the "little boxes of raisins," which gets Lance all excited, but Xander is insistent that he and Spike have to leave. They hurry out.
Anya and Willow are still at Buffy's, researching. The doorbell rings, and Willow goes to get it. She suggests that it might be Xander but we all know he wouldn't ring the bell; he'd just walk in, since the door's never locked. When Willow opens the door, we see RJ standing on the other side. RJ asks for Buffy, but Willow claims she's not there and tries to shoo RJ away. Anya comes up behind Willow and says in a hushed tone, "No Buffy for you! Leave quickly now." So RJ does. Man, is he dull. Anya whispers that it's good that Dawn and Buffy didn't know RJ was there, and then the theme from A Summer Place starts up again. Anya and Willow get dippy looks on their faces as they watch RJ sashay down the front walk. Quick cut to a few seconds later. Willow protests that Anya doesn't even know RJ, but Anya claims to have "looked into him" and seen his soul. "He was walking away, so unless his soul was in his ass…" snips Willow. They argue a bit more, and then Buffy and Dawn come downstairs, upset that they have two new rivals for the hand of RJ. Buffy points out to Willow that she's a "gay woman," but Willow claims her love isn't about RJ's "physical presence." "His physical presence has a penis," points out Anya, but Willow is game to "work around it." Dawn whines, and then Buffy wants everyone to calm down. She decides that Willow and Anya must have been affected by the love spell that Dawn is under. Willow proposes that they prove who loves RJ the most. Willow's willing to look beyond RJ's "orientation," and Anya brags that she'd kill for him. "You'd kill for a chocolate bar," snaps Willow. With wide-eyed excitement, Buffy decides that, since "Slayer means kill," she'll take out Principal Wood. Dawn slumps in the background while Willow decides smugly to prove her love "with magic." Anya's skeptical, and sarcastically suggests that Willow use magic to make RJ a girl. Off Willow's delighted expression, Anya realizes she's given Willow a great idea. Buffy, Anya, and Willow race off to prove their love, leaving a depressed Dawn paralyzed with sadness. Buffy takes an extra moment to point out that Dawn will never get RJ.
Upstairs, Willow sits on the floor, lights a candle, and prepares to cast a spell. Boom-chicka, boom-chicka '70s music plays as Willow is reduced to filling the top left quarter of the screen. We're obviously going for a 1970s split-screen intrigue thing here. Full screen, and Charlie's Angels music plays as Buffy crazy-drives her SUV into a parking lot. As she stops the car, her picture slides up to fill the top right quarter of the screen. The caper music continues to play as we see Anya, in front of a bank and all clad in black. Her picture slides down to bottom left as she pulls a ski mask over her face. When I pause the tape at this point, we have simultaneously: Willow working on her spell, Buffy hefting a huge bazooka, and Anya preparing to enter the bank. Then the music gets a little more serious as we see Dawn lie down on some train tracks. A train horns wails in the background. The split-screen thing plus caper music is cute, but random.
Back to full screen. Willow is still casting in the bathroom. As she recites her humble request to Hecate, glowing crystals swirl in the air around her. She's about to ask for a "simple change" when Xander claps his hand over her mouth. All the crystals hit the floor. Spike hovers in the background. Willow protests that now she has to starts over, snarling, "Hecate hates that!" Grabbing Willow's crystals (not like that, folks), Xander demands to know what the hell she's doing, and Willow replies that she's trying to prove she loves RJ "the most." Xander gently points out that RJ's a guy; Willow sweetly replies that he doesn't have to be. She snatches at the crystals, but Xander holds them out of her reach. Willow spills the beans that Anya, Buffy, and Dawn are also out attempting crazy stunts, and that Buffy plans to kill Principal Wood. Xander says they'll take care of that first.
Wood sits at his desk, marking papers and listening to a CD. He's totally oblivious to Buffy, whom we can see outside the window over his shoulder. She creeps up and then hefts the bazooka to her shoulder, taking aim. With a muted roar, Spike attacks Buffy from the left, pushing her totally out of frame right. Wood is unaware. With another roar, we see Spike stumble in from the right, Buffy hanging off his shoulders. Wood flips some pages in his calendar. Spike races back by the window, carrying the bazooka, and Buffy races after him. Wood finally hears a noise and looks curiously out the window, but doesn't see anything. He shakes his head and goes back to his business. This scene was brilliant and hilarious physical comedy, but a good scene does not a good episode make.
Cut to outside the school. Spike races along with the bazooka; Buffy is still in hot pursuit. They find Xander and Willow waiting for them at Xander's car. Willow's casting a "human locater" spell, presumably to find Dawn and Anya. Buffy's all irate that they interrupted her principal-killing activities.
Dawn's lying on the train tracks. Train whistle blows. Dawn blows too, pretty much. Xander pulls up near the tracks, and he, Spike, Buffy, and Willow all tumble out of the car. Buffy's more concerned about Anya getting a crack at RJ than about where her sister is, and Willow whines that she shouldn't "miss out" on whatever "recently evil" hijinks Anya is getting up to. Xander points out that Dawn is lying on the tracks and a train is approaching. Everyone just stands around and stares for a while, not feeling the urgency of rescuing Dawn, I guess. I can get behind that. Finally Buffy runs off to do so, and what follows is some incredibly murky action. I'm not sure if it's supposed to build suspense, or is just poorly edited. We think that there's only one train track and that for some reason Buffy is hopping a ride on the train that's about to squash Dawn like a new penny, but actually Buffy is running along on top of another train going to the opposite direction on a parallel track. It doesn't make much sense, but she rescues Dawn just in time. As one or the other of the trains rushes by, Buffy screams at Dawn for trying to off herself. "What am I, going to compete with you?" demands Dawn. "You're older and hotter and have sex that's rough and kill people. I don't have any of that stuff." Maybe I'm not a very open person, but I know I can live without my sister having that sort of intimate knowledge about what kind of sex I have. Dawn claims that she was going to die so RJ would always know that she loved him enough to give up her life for him. Doesn't that usually work better when you give up your life in a useful, "rescuing the other person" sort of way? "No guy is worth your life, not ever," admonishes Buffy, conveniently forgetting all about how, in high school, she was willing to let Angel drain her to live. Buffy continues that Dawn is scaring her so much that she'd give her RJ if she could. Then she reneges a little on that and finally realizes that she too must be under a spell.
Xander and Spike sneak along a Sunnydale street. They peer through a store window and spot RJ walking along, accompanied by a cheerleader. With great seriousness, Xander says to Spike, "Now you're sure you understand the plan?" "I think I got it, yeah," whispers Spike conspiratorially. Then he and Xander take off running madly towards RJ. Xander grabs him around the middle and holds him still while Spike grabs the jacket and pulls it off of RJ's shoulders. Jacket secured, Xander and Spike dash off quickly. Hee. Another funny bit. So why did the first thirty-seven minutes of this episode suck so bad?
At the Summers home, the jacket burns in the fireplace. Everybody stands around and enjoys the sight. Buffy teasingly asks Xander if he slipped on the jacket for a second, and he says, "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it didn't fit." Anya worries that they have no idea where the jacket came from in the first place, but Xander says that's part of living on the Hellmouth. Buffy and Willow can't believe what they both almost did, and Anya jumps in quickly, saying that none of them are "morally, or, you know, legally" responsible for what they did under the spell. Buffy sits to a sad Dawn, who is embarrassed about the way she acted. She feels stupid about the spell, but Buffy imparts big-sister wisdom, saying, "Get ready to feel even stupider when it's not [a spell]." Willow inquires what Anya ran off to do to win RJ's love, and Anya attempts to act innocent. She then claims to have written an epic poem, comparing RJ to "a daisy, a tower, and a lake." Over the radio, a breaking news story comes on about a "masked thief" who held up a number of local businesses. Anya quickly switches off the radio and chirps, "Okay, great! Ice cream, my treat?" She grins widely.